Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled
by omni82
Summary: Driven insane by the boundless power of a God, Miaka wants to "help" her seishi in their new lives...by killing them. Can Mitsukake stop her and live through it?
1. Suzaku blew up my car

Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yuugi.   
  
~Writer's Note: Yes, another stupid note from me. I thought I'd write a reincarnation story. And amazingly enough, Nuriko is a man in it! In case you totally missed the summary, this is from Mitsukake's pov. He's my favorite Suzaku seishi and deserves a good story. ~  
***  
  
Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled  
Chapter One: Suzaku Blew Up My Car  
by: omni82  
  
***  
  
I'd seen a lot of strange things in my life – as a doctor I often came across the unusual or grotesque – but nothing ever compared to the sight that lie before me.   
  
From the driver's seat of my '96 Oldsmobile station wagon, I was a rock set in a rushing stream of chaos. I normally don't think so fancifully but the scene before me gave ample inspiration. From up to two blocks ahead of me, people were leaving their cars, office buildings, and the sidewalks and running. Some were screaming, some were crying but all were terrified. The ground shook and I heard an explosion that was closely followed by a tremendous ball of fire. Okay – maybe those people were on to something.   
  
I quickly exited the car only to reach back into the rear seats. My five-month-old son, Chiriko, smiled toothlessly at me. My large hands fumbled in my fear as I prayed to any god that would help me get my son and self out of this alive. The fastenings would not come undone so I tore at them. They ripped apart with a resounding tear and my son was free. Gathering him up in my arms, I prepared to run after the others. A brief look over my shoulder convinced me of the futility of it.  
  
Even as I turned my head to stare, a wall of flame was engulfing the cars right in front of me. The heat was incredible. It was coming at me swiftly, too fast for any normal man to run from. In this moment, I knew death and was utterly and completely petrified. None of my muscles would work save the ones that had my body twisting to shield my son from the ghastly fate that awaited us. If my body could protect him from fire and save him, then I'd consider my life a success.   
  
Just as my shirt began to smolder, I saw a man running toward us at a great speed. In his hand was a large fan like the kind school kids make out of notepaper only this one was made entirely of metal. He leapt nimbly atop a Toyota Four Runner, his ginger hair blazing as fiercely as the inferno. He bellowed something that sounded vaguely Chinese and then something absolutely impossible happened.   
  
His fan, the metal fan that he was waving in his right hand, spewed forth a great gout of fire that crashed into the incoming flames. Then the world exploded around me. The heat burned was so intense it as if experiencing the depths of Hell. I shielded my son with my body as my hair and clothing caught fire. Where my jacket burned, my skin felt icy cold. I didn't move, didn't breathe as the two fires quite simply put each other out.   
  
My ears were still ringing as I became aware of someone putting me out. I blinked and coughed as someone beat their shirt across my shoulders and pounded on my back. It hurt like nothing else and I blacked out for a moment.   
  
I came to with my face smushed against the shoulder of a beautiful woman. Her large, rose-colored eyes peered at me in concern as her soft, violet hair tickled my face. Chiriko gave a mewling cry from under my coat and I pulled away from the woman to examine my son.   
  
The woman gave a soft cry of disbelief as Chiriko appeared. I ignored her to check him for burn marks or bruises. Amazingly enough, he was fine for the ordeal. He gave me the soft sunny smile reserved only for his daddy and a bubbly laugh. I couldn't believe it. We should both be dead, incinerated in the onslaught of primal wildfire yet we were not even seriously injured.   
  
I guiltily looked up at my rescuer and croaked out a belated thank you. She smiled at me, the mole under her left eye crinkling up. Someone out of my sight handed her a bottle of water, which she passed to me. I drank gratefully and thanked her again.  
  
"Don't thank me," she said in a dulcet tone, "thank Hotohori. He put you out and brought the water." She gestured to a man standing next to her. I gazed up at him-  
  
And into a very familiar pair of amber eyes. The less I thought about it, the more the woman looked familiar as well. The couple were as if a dream were standing before me. I could not say where or when I had met them but I knew I had.   
  
"Can I hold your son?" The woman asked brightly as she and Hotohori gently helped me to my feet. She wiggled a pair of fingers at Chiriko who tried his best to catch them. I hesitated. My son didn't like strangers, given to fits of crying and screaming when even his grandmothers held him.   
  
"It's okay," she said. "We already know each other. Don't we Chiriko?" She slid my son out of my unresisting arms as I tried to understand what she had meant. How could she have known my son? He barely went anywhere, save to the clinic with his mother and I.   
  
"Oh, do you know him from the clinic?" I asked with relief from having solved that mystery. "Are you a friend of Shoka's?"   
  
Hotohori and the woman exchanged an indecipherable look between them. It was as if they were agreeing not to fill me in on some important secret.   
  
"That's it exactly," the woman agreed. "My name is Nuriko," she said. "How is Shoka?" This last question was put to me as if it were gravely serious. It apparently of a great concern to her and to the slightly tense Hotohori whether or not my wife was well. It was both flattering and disturbing.   
  
"Shoka is fine. The baby kept her up most of the night while I was on an emergency call. I took Chiriko out so she could get a little rest. She's probably worried sick now." Hmm…near death experiences make me chatty.   
  
Nuriko and Hotohori sighed in simultaneous relief. It made me wonder if they knew something I didn't. I was about to ask about it when another person joined us. It was the man with the fan. He was a little sooty like the rest of us and he wore a cocky smile.   
  
"Guess I took care of that demon," He told Nuriko and Hotohori smugly. He rested the fan against his shoulder in casual gesture of comfort. Evidently the massive destruction was something he was at ease with.   
  
When he finally looked at me, his scarlet eyes widened with shock. "Mitsukake!" He gasped. That wasn't my name but he seemed positive that it was. Nuriko and Hotohori were distinctly uneasy by him naming me that. Something suspicious was going on here.   
  
Nuriko stomped on his foot, causing him to jump around clutching the injured extremity. "Doctor," she said sweetly, "this is my friend Tasuki. I told him about you after a visit to the clinic. He's very impressed with your work. Aren't you Tasuki-chan?"   
  
"Uh, yeah," Tasuki stuttered. He looked sheepish and scratched the back of his head. "I admired the people who know how to patch up guys like me who get in too many fights." He seemed really embarrassed or uncomfortable in my presence. In a fidgety movement, he patted the hood of my car. "I, uh, saved your car," he offered. Maybe he had a low I.Q. That would explain a few things.   
  
"Well, that's very kind," I said slowly. I had dealt with a few mentally impaired people before. All you had to do was to be patient and to speak kindly to them and you could establish a mutually satisfying friendship.   
  
"Thank you very much, Tasuki." I told him gently. I returned my attention to Nuriko who was biting back laughter and Hotohori who looked amused.   
  
"I can't thank you enough. Where are you staying? I'll drive you since I still have a car." I nodded considerately to Tasuki who turned red and started to mutter to himself.   
  
"Unfortunately, we were staying at that hotel," Hotohori replied, motioning to a smoking building. Police and firemen were beginning to crowd in and the noise was making Chiriko fussy. If we were going to leave, it must be now.  
  
"You must stay at my house," I declared. "It isn't large but you are very welcome to what extra space we have." I thought of the scolding Shoka was going to give me over bringing unannounced guests into her home but dismissed it. I owed these people my life as well as the life of my son.   
  
"Thank you very much. We humbly accept your kind offer." Hotohori bowed once to me and began issuing instructions.   
  
"Tasuki and Nuriko, in the backseat. Nuriko, hold on to young Chiriko. The car seat is certainly not child friendly. Mitsukake, I recommend we depart before more people come." Hotohori slid into the passenger seat and my sense of recognition increased. His regal air and commanding authority reminded me of someone but I couldn't remember whom.   
  
Deciding to think about it later, I got in and headed toward home. I suspected that I would have a lot of explaining to do.   
  
I live in a condominium near the poorer section of town where Shoka and I work. After we married, we set up a small clinic that catered to those who could not afford hospital care. Like the doctors of the olden times, we accepted whatever the patient could afford to pay. On the side, I built furniture that I'd sell to businesses. It provided enough added income that my small family could live comfortably and on occasions do something special. Shoka, Chiriko, our cat Tama-neko (named after the husband of our receptionist), and I lived simply. We were content.  
  
Our apartment was on the third floor but I was barely out of the car when Shoka flew into my arms. "Juan! Oh Juan, God, I was so worried. Are you hurt? Where's Chiriko? What happened?" Nuriko got out of the car and handed the baby to my frenzied wife. Her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears as she caressed her firstborn's face. In this moment, I knew with a certainty that filled every part of my being, that I loved this woman more than anything in this universe. I pulled her into my slightly crispy arms and kissed her deeply. I didn't care about my audience or the impropriety. I was just so grateful to be alive at this moment with my wife.  
  
"Oi, he's really loosened up," Tasuki whispered to his friends. Nuriko swatted at him, caught up in the romance of the moment.   
  
Shoka was dreamy-eyed when I let her go. The smile on her face satisfied my masculine pride. The baby's whimpers jolted her back to reality where she blushed, patted her hair, and then sighed. "Who are your friends?" She asked, manners once more remembered.  
  
"Nuriko, Hotohori, Tasuki, I would be honored to present my wife, Myou Shoka. Shoka, these people saved my life. Their belongings were destroyed along with the hotel they were staying at."  
  
"Then you must stay here," Shoka told them. She didn't let me tell her that I had invited them. "Please come with me. I'm sure you must want baths and a rest after such an ordeal." She gave me back Chiriko who was beginning to squall and smell. My charming wife led them up to our home as I was left to follow behind.   
  
As she distributed towels and began to make up the guest room, I changed and bathed Chiriko. His green eyes were serious as he listened to me talk. Strange as it may sound, whenever I talk to my son, I think he understands me. Today, he was even more alert as I worked out my problem to his listening ear.  
  
"I swore I saw Tasuki make fire from that fan, Chiriko. I'm willing to discount that as a trick of the eyes due to the heat waves. But what about Tasuki recognizing me? Or the fact that Shoka didn't recognize Nuriko who claimed to know her? Hotohori and Nuriko were hiding something from me but what was it? They seem so familiar, as if I know them but we just met. And who is Mitsukake? Am I supposed to be him? We have a conundrum on our hands here, my good son." He smiled in delight at that while I put a white hat on his small head. In my hands, he was so small and fragile. This life I had made with love with Shoka was infinitely precious to me. The mysterious trio was responsible for saving his life so for now I would trust them and offer them my hospitality. But I was not going to forget the secret that they concealed.   
  
The walls were thin and I could hear Shoka humming to herself in the kitchen. Cradling Chiriko in the crook of my arm, I meandered over to the counter where she was chopping vegetables. I popped a slice of sweet potato in my mouth and deposited the drowsy Chiriko in his carrier. He nodded off without any further encouragement.   
  
Shoka stopped slicing vegetables and came to my side. "You smell smoky," she murmured. "Go wash up. Do you need me to look at any burns?" She was the best doctor I knew and the sexiest. I nodded my assent, unable to keep the wicked gleam out of my eye.   
  
"I have something that needs tending to, Doctor." I rumbled. I did my best to look innocent but she whacked me with a dishtowel anyway.   
  
"We have guests," she protested.   
  
"Why Shoka, what did you think I meant?" I inquired, the picture of innocence. I scooted out of the kitchen before she could hit me again.   
  
The shower was free so I washed the soot and dirt off quickly. A few minor burns and abrasions marred my arms. I twisted in front of the mirror in order to determine the extent of the damage on my back.   
  
Suddenly, the door opened and I made a desperate lunge for my towel. It was a bit late but I firmly tied the yellow terrycloth around my waist. Nuriko stood in the doorway gaping. I stared back at her. My surprise was greater than hers because 'she' wasn't a she but a 'he.' Nuriko was a man.   
  
He wore one of my old bathrobes that was too small around the shoulders for me. It parted open in the front, displaying a flat, very masculine chest. I had reason to stare. The woman I thought was a woman was a man! But why was he staring? Nuriko's eyes remained stuck on my chest as he started backing out of the doorway.  
  
"Excuse me," He stuttered as the door closed. The strange encounter encouraged me to dress quickly and tend to my injuries in the privacy of my bedroom where no one would walk in.   
  
Shoka went out of her way with dinner. She prepared my favorite fish dish along with a variety of vegetables and rice. Our best tea was served in the finest china. It was too bad we didn't have a full set of it. Chiriko was placed between the two of us where he slept the entire meal. He would probably stay up all night.  
  
"So," my wife said, "Do you know what started the fire?" The three guests looked at each other before Nuriko spoke up.  
  
"I think it was an exploding gas line." He offered.   
  
"Yeah, a devil of one." Tasuki chimed in. Hotohori frowned at him but the spunky guy remained unaffected. Their explanation was plausible and since I didn't really know what set the fire, I just shrugged.  
  
"Well, you are all very lucky to have escaped alive," Shoka said firmly. "I'm grateful for your heroism. I don't know what I'd do if Juan died." She looked sad. I pressed my hand atop hers and gazed into her eyes. We communicated then, a look conveying such raw emotion. What we felt for each other was always so intense as if we were making up for lost time.   
  
A fuzzy head popped up under my arm. Tama-neko gave a small meow to our guests before sauntering away with the piece of fish I gave him. Shoka frowned at me but I just smiled. I spoil that cat rotten.   
  
"Why am I not surprised?" Hotohori murmured. He scratched Tama-neko's head as the cat moseyed on by. I looked at him. "You seem like a cat person," he explained.  
  
"Yes, Tama-neko came with Juan when I married him." Shoka joked. "The poor cat didn't have a name until our receptionist picked one. She named him after her husband."   
  
The three looked stunned. Tasuki gaped like a beached whale.  
  
"What is her name?" Nuriko asked in a strangled voice. I poured him some more tea.   
  
"Our receptionist?" Shoka asked with her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Sukanami Miaka. Her husband, Taka, teaches at Yotsubadai High School and Miaka works for us. She's a lovely girl but how she got the name Tama from Taka is a mystery to me."   
  
"Miaka?" Hotohori choked. He looked at Nuriko then to Tasuki and then to me before uttering the phrase that changed my life forever.  
  
"Priestess of Suzaku."  
  
TBC… 


	2. Suzaku obviously doesn't like pancakes

Disclaimer: I do not own Fushigi Yuugi. Argh. I'd make better money then I do now and therefore be happier. Or not. Money isn't everything, I'm told. Hmph. Try being a college student and say that.  
  
Note: I hope I did a good job with Mitsukake's daddy-ness. I am neither a father nor a man so it didn't really come natural to me. Sorry if it stinks. ^_^;  
  
***  
  
Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled  
Chapter Two: Suzaku obviously doesn't like pancakes  
by: omni82  
  
***  
  
Well, my guests wouldn't say anything but their mysterious exchange and I didn't pressure them. I could tell Shoka was dying to know what was going on but respected my silent decision not to pry. It was no matter; she would get it out of them sooner rather than later. It was amazing the things that she could make you confide.   
  
I don't know about the others but today stole the strength from me. After dinner, I excused myself for bed, pleading a very real case of exhaustion. Chiriko yawned along with me, producing a laugh from everyone and my wife's smooth request to be excused to see to Chiriko. Tasuki, Nuriko, and Hotohori piled into the guestroom as my wife firmly shut our bedroom door behind her.   
  
Chiriko was lovingly set up in his bassinet where he nodded off as soon as his little head hit the pillow. I was so beat that my fingers stumbled over the buttons on my shirt. Grumbling, I cursed the damned thing right before I ripped it off my shoulders. Hell, I was a doctor. I could afford a new shirt.   
  
"I could have done that for you," Shoka said with amusement. "Do you need help with your pants?"   
  
I certainly wasn't given a chance to respond as her fingers attached to my zipper. The smile she gave me was positively sultry. Dammit. Why was it that when a beautiful, horny woman wants to get into my pants, I'm too tired to let her?   
  
"Shoka," I began regretfully. She smiled at me again, this time with tenderness.   
  
"Don't worry Juan. I've got it covered." Shoka said. She pulled down my pants in one smooth motion then leaned over and handed me my pajama bottoms.   
  
"As your doctor, I proscribe plenty of rest." She told me solemnly before sliding under the covers. I had no choice but to oblige.  
  
"The doctor knows best," I murmured. "I love you, Shoka." I didn't hear her reply.   
  
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of pancakes frying. I love pancakes and if Shoka would let me, I'd eat them everyday. I rolled out of bed, noting that my wife's side was cold. She always was more of a morning person than I. Chiriko was in his crib, snoring lightly.   
  
If you have never seen a baby sleep, then you are missing out on a wonderful thing. My son was smiling, secretly indulging in a dream I couldn't even imagine. Each little breath – and in his case snort- was musical. Babies look innocent when they're awake but gazing at a sleeping one can make you so aware of the world that you live in with all its wonders and miracles. He is so fragile and pure that it makes me want to challenge every dragon and correct every injustice just so he will remain that way. I would give anything to be the man he can always look up to; I want to be my son's hero.   
  
I can never explain what fatherhood has done to me. The moment my son was passed into my arms, I suddenly felt inadequate. Every fiber in my being told me 'Make sure he grows up to be a proud man.' I have a responsibility to Chiriko to make sure he grows up strong and happy. I have to be his role model but sometimes that makes me want to go screaming off into the sunset. But deep down there's that part of me that tells me to wait it out because I don't want to miss my chance with him this time-   
  
"Penny for your thoughts." Nuriko was leaning in my doorway, dressed casually in a pair of scrubs. I motioned for him to come in. No one should miss the sight of a sleeping baby.  
  
"I was just wondering what Chiriko will be like when he grows up," I said softly. "Will he take after his mother with her spunk and kind heart? Or will he resemble me and be too big to fit in any room?"   
  
"I think he'll be smart and brave like his mother and father." Nuriko told me. He stroke Chiriko's cheek with one delicate finger. "I love babies," he said sadly.   
  
I didn't ask why he was so sad; this was a private moment between two men. I believe unspoken phrases are kept silent for a reason so I let Nuriko's go but to lighten the moment I whispered to him, "Who made the pancakes?"   
  
Nuriko giggled softly. "I did actually. I came in here to see if you wanted some. Shoka left this morning on an emergency call. She said she'd be back late tonight and not to wait up for her."   
  
Hmph. Shoka always tells me not to wait up for her but I do anyway. Anyway, with her gone there are more pancakes for me. Nuriko noticed my cheerful expression with something akin to wariness. He seemed continually startled whenever I evinced any emotion. What did he think, that I was some sort of stoic zombie?   
  
I shooed the beautiful man out gently and shut the door. I dressed quickly in a dark green sweater that allowed air to get at some of the more uncomfortable burns and a pair of tattered khakis. I had just finished pulling on my second sock when Chiriko woke up and began fussing.   
  
"Shhh…" I cooed. "Pancakes, Chiriko. We're going to have pancakes." That shut him up pretty quickly. He is my son after all. I dressed him and headed for the breakfast table. Hotohori and Tasuki were already seated and eating when we arrived. I settled my son into his carrier and accepted a plate of pancakes from Nuriko. At five months old, Chiriko could eat pancake only if I cut it into tiny pieces. He already had two teeth and was cutting another one.   
  
Tasuki watched with undisguised fascination as I fed Chiriko little bits of pancakes between my own bites. "Do you want to feed him?" I asked the man. He looked delighted yet distinctly uncomfortable by the offer.  
  
When he nodded uncertainly, I handed him the plate and fork. Chiriko followed the movement of the pancakes intently. Nuriko didn't bother hiding his smile as Tasuki wiped a trail of drool from my son's mouth before feeding him.   
  
"What're ya grinnin' at ya fool? Can't a man feed a baby in peace?" Tasuki asked crossly. "This kid sure is drooly," he told me as he reached for another napkin. Chiriko laughed at him, spraying Tasuki with a mouthful of pancake. Nuriko nearly did the same thing moments later. To his credit, Tasuki didn't curse or shout but calmly wiped himself and Chiriko off.   
  
"I think he's had enough pancake," I said.  
  
As we were cleaning up, Hotohori suggested that we head over to their hotel to see if anything had been spared. "We might be able to move back there today," he suggested doubtfully.   
  
"No way," I said immediately. "You are our guests and I'll not have you move back into a smoky, possibly damaged building. We can just drop Chiriko off at the clinic with Miaka and head downtown."   
  
Well, they all perked up at the idea of seeing Miaka. I was really wondering how they knew my receptionist/secretary. She was too nice a girl to be mixed up with these weirdoes- albeit heroic weirdoes but weirdoes nonetheless.   
  
The bus then the subway was our best bet. My shoes were a dusty gray from ash so I did my best to brush them off before I left. Chiriko was in Nuriko's capable hands. All three of my guests were making funny faces, eliciting baby giggles from him. Somehow the scene seemed right yet incomplete. Meeting these people was something that was obviously meant to be – surely the hand of god was involved with that fire- but I felt like there should be more people around me. Funny, now that I think about it, I've often felt that way about Miaka.  
  
To cover my sudden unease, I bustled everyone outside in a loud booming voice. It was warm out but I still wore a coat and made sure my baby was bundled up. On the bus, Chiriko began to get fussy.   
  
"Shh, shh. Come'on, quiet little guy," Tasuki pleaded. I shook a rattle at him but it did no good. It looked like Chiriko was going to burst into hysterics at any moment.  
  
"Maybe if I tell him a story," Nuriko suggested. A story? Well, I guess it couldn't hurt but a clean diaper and a nap might be better. Damned inconvenient bus.   
  
"Once upon a time," he began softly, "there was a girl of legends, the Priestess of Suzaku. She had to collect the seven star warriors of Suzaku in order to summon the phoenix god Suzaku. Their names were Tamahome, Hotohori, Nuriko, Chichiri, Tasuki, Mitsukake, and Chiriko."  
  
I began to feel edgy. This wasn't any children's story I had ever heard before and yet it sounded vaguely familiar.  
  
"The priestess of Suzaku was a kind and loving girl who wanted her star warriors to be happy. Many of them died protecting them, making her very unhappy. So when the time came to summon Suzaku, the priestess wished with all her heart and soul that her friends would be reborn in a happier life. Well, wouldn't you know that her heartfelt desire came true? But it came with consequences. You see, it wasn't a formal wish but she got it anyway. It took too much of Suzaku's energy and made him unbalanced and dangerous. Now he wants the life of the priestess of Suzaku and her warriors in order to make himself strong again. He's already started by destroying poor Chichiri. Suzaku won't stop until he's killed us all." Nuriko turned slowly in his seat to gaze into my eyes, already wide with disbelief.  
  
"And he won't be deterred if his opponent is only a baby, Mitsukake."   
  
My son… 


	3. Come Hell or High Water

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own Fushigi Yuugi but I do own a rather nice '96 Subaru Impreza. If Watase Yuu wishes to swap with me though, I'd be willing to consider it.   
  
~ I love this story. I think it's my favorite of all the ones I've written so far. Read and review people, read and review. ~  
  
***  
  
Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled  
Chapter Three: Come Hell or High Water  
by: omni82  
  
***  
  
"Suzaku is coming for us and he won't be deterred even if his opponent is a baby, Mitsukake."  
  
You don't know the fear I felt at Nuriko's words. It was as if one hundred hammers were banging away in my throat which was as dry as the grave and twice as tight. I could actually see the veins in my forehead throbbing as I considered the impact of Nuriko's words.  
  
My god.  
  
Suzaku was insane.  
  
An insane god was coming to kill my son and I.   
  
I had to get away.   
  
My hand acted like a separate entity, shooting up in the air and decisively grabbing on the chord that hung by my head with a sharp yank. The bus was rolling to a stop so I could get out and run away. I was just a normal man with a normal life. Only normal things were supposed to happen to me. I believed Nuriko without any kind of hesitation. He had never lied to me and somehow, I knew that his story was true. What he said about me was true. I was Mitsukake and no matter how I wanted to deny it, I shouldn't. Denial and happy thoughts would chase away Suzaku who would not let such nonsense bar him from his misguided sense of revenge.  
  
My actions were a bit of a shock to my newly found celestial brothers as I got off the bus. They hurried after me, shooting worried glances to each other. I don't know if they knew where they were going, but I did. If Suzaku was really coming for Chiriko, me, and these three, then I had protect my wife from his anger.  
  
The ground was crunchy under my feet. Autumn had burst colorfully upon the city, bathing the sidewalks as was its custom with brightly colored leaves. The air was crisp and the pollution seemed so very far away. But one could not deny that fall was a time of death and the beginning of a long, cold dormancy. Nature could only produce such sophisticated beauty for a short period. It was like the city was in the prime of its life. Everything was bright and grand. The sun overhead shone so brightly as to blot out the oncoming shadows. I, the fool, did not see them coming but as day turns to night they would come and the sun would set. The clouds were gathering so swiftly above that the light would surely be squeezed lifeless in a short time unless a strong wind came to blow them away. I hoped it would. I often wish for impossible things.  
  
"Mitsukake! Myoujuan, wait up!" Tasuki called, panting slightly as he ran to cover the distance between us. Had I been running? I never noticed. "I know you're freaked out but you gotta stay with us. The only way we're going to survive this is if we stick together!"   
  
"No!" Quickly stopping, I rounded on the man. He stumbled to a halt, seemingly surprised that a large man such as myself could go from movement to not so abruptly. "We can't survive. It's just like last time. After the first of us died, I knew that we'd never be able to recover enough to do that. Our strongest member," I reminded him bitterly, "barely stood up to a werewolf. How can we possibly stand a chance against a god?"   
  
"We have to try!" Hotohori had caught up to us, Nuriko's hand buried in his own. "The Mitsukake I knew would not run away so easily!"   
  
His words made me so angry that my vision dimmed. That pesky hand acted up one more time, swinging out and knocking the ex-prince flat on his back. "How dare you?" I hissed, hauling him to his feet. "How dare you say that? You didn't know the first thing about me or about Chiriko. We were always the odd men out in our cozy group, always the outsiders. You may feign a close relationship with me, sir, but you will never have it." I threw him away from me, disgusted with him, disgusted with myself. Never had I let my temper out so completely yet I felt like I needed to appease it for the lifetime I once spent ignoring it. Memory is a tricky thing and I hadn't totally regained what was past but I aware of enough to feel my actions justified. Mitsukake demanded action and Myoujuan gladly obliged.  
  
Chiriko began to wail after that. This violence scared him deeply. I began to wonder if perhaps he had all his memories. As a baby, his short term memory was shaky but past life would most likely be something buried in him from the time of conception. Could my son be operating as Suzaku no seishi Chiriko as we speak?   
  
"Mitsukake!" Nuriko cried.  
  
"Mitsukake!" Tasuki echoed.   
  
I ignored them and kept walking, my son pressed to my chest like a weeping, precious treasure too important to expose to the elements.   
  
Guilt, I suppose, stopped my feverish pace as much as anything. I had hit the emperor, my inner voice exclaimed in dismay. I wanted Mitsukake to shut up. I wasn't him anymore! It was Mitsukake who Suzaku was after, not Myoujuan. If only we could separate, I'd gladly let him go to his fate. I was honor bound in this life not to protect Miaka, as my companions had suggested, but to guard the lives and happiness of Shoka and my son.   
  
These thoughts danced merry circles in my mind, plaguing me and embittering me. I sank on to a nearby bench. The wood was chilled, sending tendrils of ice creeping through my legs. I wrapped Chiriko more securely but I could not keep him totally isolated from the crisp air. No matter how hard I tried, some would always get in. I should get him to somewhere that was warm, somewhere that he'd be able to protect himself by some degree.   
  
I was eight blocks from the clinic by now; I had wandered in the opposite direction that I had wanted to go. Shoka was more than likely waiting for me, worrying about me, needing me. Time to go to her.   
  
"Yes, go to the Priestess of Suzaku." Seated next to me was a man with fire for eyes. The bench reached up and held me immobile as he chatted with me like a friend would. And I knew, I knew down to the very depths of what I was, Mitsukake and Myoujuan, that this was Suzaku.   
  
"She really is a devil in disguise," he told nonchalantly. "Miaka knew the rules. She knew them so completely that of she forgot everything else, the rules would have remained with her. Summon the beast god and make three wishes. You only get three. Three little wishes sitting in a nest, fiddle-dee-dee." He sang with a slightly crazed look. I tugged against my leafless bondage but the were only token struggles. How odd that it felt natural to be sitting next to a god-my god—and not feel panic. They said he was insane so shouldn't I be afraid? I was just ten minutes ago.   
  
"You aren't one of them are you?" Suzaku broke off his harmonious humming and was peering seriously at me. He was leaning in, his breath hot against my cheek. He was beautiful.  
  
"One what?" I asked faintly. Chiriko stopped crying and was studying our visitor just as seriously as the god was studying me.   
  
"No, you aren't." He decided with glee. "How marvelous!" The bench abruptly released me but I did not flee. Logically, Suzaku could catch up with me before I took even three steps. Emotionally, I did not want to go. I was confused, so confused. I needed some answers.   
  
"What aren't I?" I asked a second time as humbly as possible. Suzaku brightened at this and he was just so beautiful I couldn't stand to look at him. Tears streamed down my face, landing lightly on Chiriko's face and mingling with his own wet, silent wonder.   
  
"My son, my precious child, look at me." His voice was so unbearably kind and so full of love I felt as if I were standing in the middle of a teeming volcano of mixed emotion. I was awed, humbled, strengthened, beloved. I did as he asked and was shocked by the tears Suzaku was shedding as freely as I.   
  
"Suzaku," I breathed, reaching out a trembling hand to wipe away weeping. The salty liquid was so hot that it scalded my skin, leaving shiny red burns on my thick fingers. He kissed away the pain, leaving whole skin that was as soft as Chiriko's.   
  
"I'm so glad," he wept. "You truly are a creature of love and passion to have withstood it. You are whole and you have kept your son whole for me. Save your brothers, Myoujuan, save them for me." In his smile I saw my son and my wife and everyone who ever loved me. Tenderly, my god left a small kiss on my cheek and bent to place an identical one on Chiriko. "Save them." He whispered again.  
  
And then he was gone.   
  
Reality intruded in too quickly, bringing with it the cold of twilight. The appearance of the stars startled me. It had been mid-afternoon when I had first sat down. Before a god spoke to me. I began to weep again for loss of a better thing to do. Suzaku was here but now he was gone and I felt bereft. Chiriko's tiny hand wound around my thumb and in his eyes, I saw the same emotions. We had been blessed and charged with a mission that was as baffling as it was important.   
  
Save them. I was nearly certain that He had meant the other Suzaku seishi. Yet, I was not sure. My friends had said Suzaku killed Chichiri and that Suzaku had gone insane. The deity I met this day was definitely a bit unbalanced but he seemed to have control of his faculties. Why would he have killed one of his own if he wanted to rescue them from something? I needed outside perspective.   
  
"We have to go home," I told Chiriko. My watch said 7:15 and I winced. Shoka was going to kill me for being out so late without leaving a message.   
  
I took a taxi for speed but had it stop a half-block from my apartment. I was going to try and sneak in so she wouldn't know exactly how long I had been home. The cabbie saw the plan in my face and laughed. "Good luck, buddy." He wished. I murmured the appropriate response as I tipped him.   
  
Deep down, I knew Shoka would catch me and I wasn't disappointed. With one foot and shoulder in the window, I saw her sitting demurely in a chair. She always kept the window in our bedroom slightly ajar and I thought it my best bet for sneaking in. Apparently, my wife could also read my thoughts and she sat patiently as I climbed in the rest of the way.   
  
"You look beautiful today," I offered lamely as she took our son from me without a word. Oh boy, I was in sooo much trouble.   
  
But she did look beautiful, almost painfully so. It didn't matter to me that she was wearing a rather ratty pair of sweatpants or that her shirt was missing a few buttons. I saw her as she really was, my immortal lover in her familiar mortal coil. I loved her. I loved her.   
  
"Juan," she started sternly but I cut off her words with a kiss. It was the mere brushing of my lips on hers but it was so very tender, laced with all the love I held for her. It shut her up quite effectively, I mused arrogantly. But it wasn't enough.   
  
I stared into her eyes. Those azure depths were pure and endless and burned with the fire I had recognized in Suzaku. I couldn't read her mind then but my heart could communicate with hers more clearly than words ever could. She saw my need, my desire for her. My skin fairly itched to be touched by hers and when her strong hands cupped my face and her sweet lips pressed deep against mine, I was lost.   
  
That night I loved her as passionately as I knew how. Over and over, I coaxed one more husky cry from her. With a rhythm as old as time but as unique as the individual soul, I poured everything I was into her and prayed. I prayed for our happiness to last and I prayed for everything to be alright.   
  
As the night gave way to a new dawn, Shoka collapsed against me. We were both sweating and breathing harshly yet utterly relaxed. Her fingers traced lazy circles on my bare chest as she lay splayed on top of me. I ran my hand over her hot back and returned the wicked grin she gave me.   
  
"What was that all about?"   
  
"Why? Didn't you like it?" I asked even though I knew her response.   
  
"You know I did," she purred. With a cat-like stretch, she inched her way up my body. The silken, amber curtain of her hair draped over my shoulders and arms as she lifted her head to look at me. Softly, she kissed me, her tongue tracing the outline of my mouth. She was driving me crazy and I loved every minute of it.   
  
"I've never done it with an audience," I teased. "I'm glad I fulfilled every expectation."   
  
"Oh you filled it alright," she agreed before my words sank in. "What audience?!"   
  
Her sudden embarrassment was funny so I laughed. "Chiriko was sleeping in here with us, remember?"   
  
Her soft body relaxed against mine. "Oh Chiriko. He doesn't count. He won't even remember it."   
  
"He has to learn about the birds and the bees sometime," I murmured as I trailed kisses down the hollow of her collarbone. "Best if it's from a pair of doctors."   
  
"Mm-hmm," she assented, her fingers blazing an erotic path down my stomach and lower. We didn't speak again for some time.   
  
I suppose I slept. Who wouldn't after all that? It was eleven when I got up. Shoka was in the shower, singing lustily. I didn't bother hiding my smile. Shoka couldn't carry a tune if her life depended on it. Neither could I for all it's worth. Chiriko's chances for a career as a vocalist were looking dim.  
  
The water stopped running before I could give in to my temptation to join her. It was probably for the best; I did have to talk to her about yesterday eventually. Still, I was a little disappointed. I was a man after all.   
  
Showering quickly, I padded into the kitchen. Shoka was wearing my shirt, a white button-down whose sleeves she casually turned up. Her long legs were bare and for a moment my mind drifted below my belt buckle as the saying goes. She was spooning strained peas into Chiriko's mouth and he was getting fussy.  
  
"He doesn't want that stuff. Strained vegetables are for babies, right Chiriko?" I kissed her blushing cheek as Chiriko smiled in relief.   
  
"Than what does he want?" She asked archly, raising an eyebrow at me. I smiled because I couldn't help it. She was walking right into it.  
  
"Real men like Chiriko and I want pancakes," I told her. Chiriko laughed as his mother rolled her eyes.  
  
"I should have guessed." She muttered wryly. "Please let me make some pancakes for you strapping men," she said sarcastically. Chiriko and I cheered as she pulled the ingredients from the cabinet. I gave his little hand a high five and he laughed again.   
  
Scooping the baby out of his chair, I began dancing around the kitchen with him, singing nonsensical songs about pancakes and princesses who made them for us. I was just in a silly kind of mood I guess. It was contagious. Shoka added a few verses about the straggly knights who needed magic pancakes to do silly things like fold piles of laundry and vacuum the living room.   
  
We had calmed considerably by the time the pancakes were done. I made a pot of tea and joined Shoka at the table. It was cozy, just the three of us here eating pancakes on a rainy day. We took turns feeding Chiriko bits of syrup-drenched breakfast. I wondered if we would be doing this with our second child soon.  
  
Shoka must have felt my brief glances at her but she serenely didn't address them. Chiriko was beginning to doze off as we sat next to each other, just sipping our hot tea. She must have wanted some answers. I didn't know where to start explaining. The silence was getting awkward and I felt I had to speak or explode.   
  
"I heard a remarkable story yesterday," she told me neutrally. I could have kissed her for breaking the tension.   
  
"Miaka told it to me. Would you like me to repeat it?" Her voice was without inflection. I nodded slowly.   
  
"She said she was something called the Priestess of Suzaku. Suzaku is a beast god that has gone insane and was killing all her protectors. She said you were one of them and so was Chiriko. She also told me that I had been a demon that plagued a city and killed countless people." Shoka took a dainty sip from her cup and waited patiently.   
  
Miaka  
  
I wanted to kill her.   
  
My grip tightened on my cup, shattering it and driving the broken shards deep into my left hand. Shoka made some alarmed noises and rushed to get our first aid kit. I barely paid attention as she pried my fingers open and pressed towels against the gushing wounds. The Priestess of Suzaku had told my wife a cold-hearted description of the end of her life for a reason. Was Miaka sending me a message about her intentions if I didn't fall in line? Suddenly I could see things in a new light. Nuriko and the others surely believed Miaka's tale because they thought to be the same loving, warm-hearted girl who befriended them long ago. Something had happened, something warped Miaka, turning her into the devil in disguise, as Suzaku had called it.  
  
"Shoka, don't believe what Miaka says." I instructed. My hand hurt like the devil from the seven cuts etched deep in my flesh. I stared at it, speaking to my wife like one in a trance.   
  
"Miaka was the Priestess of Suzaku and we were her protectors -- once. But now that she's killed, she does not deserve our loyalty. I only desire to protect you and Chiriko. Please believe me. You come first in my heart." I was pleading with her, begging her with my words and with my heart to have faith in me.   
  
I wasn't disappointed.  
  
"Oh Juan," she sighed, enfolding me in her arms. Closing my eyes, I let myself be held and tried to believe that it would be alright like she was promising.   
  
"The things I'm going to have to do," I choked on the words. Shoka intensified her crooning until I pulled away. The story spilled out of me. The fireball downtown, the tale Nuriko told me, hitting Hotohori, meeting Suzaku, the promise I gave him. Shoka listened to it without saying a word and when I was done she placed her hands over mine.   
  
"Tonight," she said, "let's have dinner and invite all the seishi. Tell them what you told me."   
  
Her suggestion was a good one and I telephoned Nuriko at the number he had left with my wife the day before. He accepted my invitation cordially and promised to pass on my apologies to Hotohori-sama. When I hung up it was with the kind of restless energy that would make me pace and fret all day. Shoka saw this and in her infinite wisdom, sent me to the office to do some paperwork.   
  
"Don't worry about dinner; just be on time for once." She instrcuted as she handed me my coat and pushed me out the door.   
  
Allowing myself to be pushed out was hard because it gave me time to think. I was beginning to become confused again, the more I thought. Both Nuriko and Suzaku had been sincere in their protestations and explanations.  
  
My feet took me back to the park. I sat at the same bench and thought basically the same thoughts but this time Suzaku didn't show. I continued to sit there, watching the sun waltz across the heavens. The clouds from yesterday swelled up angrily and a bitterly cold rain pattered down around me. I had no answers, only doubts. Would tonight be a horrible mistake? I didn't know. I just didn't know.  
  
TBC… 


	4. Operation: Dinner

Disclaimer: I don't own it.  
  
***  
  
Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled  
Chapter Four: Operation Dinner  
By: omni82  
  
***  
Dinner was a disaster.  
  
There was no other way to describe it. Maybe I should have expected my reincarnated comrades to object to my Evil-Miaka hypothesis. I suppose I did, but the degree but the level of sheer disbelief that met my theory was of incredible earthshaking magnitudes.   
  
As Nuriko, Tasuki, and Hotohori ranted and raved, Shoka leaned over to my side.  
  
"There was no better way to tell it?" She hissed. I shrugged my shoulders apologetically and tried to regret my hasty words. So maybe bursting out 'Miaka's evil! She killed Chichiri! I spoke to Suzaku and he's not that nutty!' wasn't such a wise idea. It definitely didn't go over too well with my friends.  
  
"Miaka's not evil," Nuriko sputtered for the tenth time. "You're crazy, Mitsukake. Absolutely nuts. Suzaku must have scrambled your brains."   
  
Tasuki and Hotohori echoed the sentiment, the former more colorfully than the latter.   
  
I suppressed my grin as well as I was able as they began to formulate ways to cure me of my sudden 'insanity.' I stopped them with a lifted hand as they speculated on the possibility of my nuttiness passing through my genes to Chiriko.   
  
"Look, everyone, I didn't come to this conclusion with no facts to back it up." Swiftly yet thoroughly, I described my meeting with Suzaku in the park and the story that Miaka had told Shoka. It was enough to quiet them into an introspective mindset.   
  
"Miaka…is a little different than I remembered." Nuriko finally conceded. Immediately, he was on the receiving end of two deadly glares from Tasuki and Hotohori. Uncomfortable with the position of 'traitor', Nuriko looked to me for help.   
  
"I need some information," I covered smoothly. "When did you all start remembering about your past lives? Before or after meeting Miaka?"   
  
"I don't see how that matters now," Hotohori replied dubiously. "But since you seem to be making a point, three years ago, I met Nuriko at a café where he was working. Up until then, I didn't remember anything."  
  
"Neither did I," the beautiful man chimed in.  
  
"One day, Nuriko tripped and fell…"  
  
"Right into Hotohori's arms!" He and Shoka shared the bright, secret smile the girls did when they knew something others didn't.  
  
"Yes well, this event precipitated the resurgence of some memories particularly of predicaments similar to those of the fall that Nuriko would stage to get my attention. I won't stay all my memories came flooding back after that but as the time progressed, we recalled more and more of who we were until, together, we had the whole picture." Hotohori finished smoothly and patted Nuriko's hand. Ah-ha. There was an angle I had missed. Okay, I got Nuriko and Hotohori but what about Tasuki?  
  
"I don't remember everything," Tasuki informed me before I could ask. "I didn't have anyone to bang to get my ducks in a row. I just had really strong feelings about people and stuff. Sometimes I had dreams and shit about being a Suzaku seishi but that was it."  
  
"And you believed just because of a few feelings and dreams?" I questioned gently.  
  
"Chichiri was convincing," He replied sadly. "I met him in high school. He had all his memories and powers and shit. I dunno what but he knew somethin' about Suzaku." Tasuki bite his lip like the small pain would somehow hold back the anguish he felt and the tears that wanted so desperately to be shed.  
  
"I remember Chichiri." I had to struggle to come up with a face to match the name but the feeling of recognition spread throughout me. "Quiet, wise, and older than us?" I ventured.  
  
"Sounds like he's remembering himself," Nuriko joked.   
  
"Me? Wise?" I asked. This startled me. I never pictured myself as particularly Yoda-like.  
  
"You always knew what to say when we were hurting," Tasuki murmured. He glanced over at Nuriko then at the floor. "You comforted the grieving and the dying alike."  
  
"Well, I couldn't have been much help. You're all still grieving for what we lost back in the book."   
  
They looked startled.   
  
"Mitsukake, I know who I am and I know who you are. I'm sad because we've lost Chichiri but we're still the Suzaku seishi. Nothing about that has changed." Nuriko explained carefully, casting hesitant glances at Tasuki's openly agonized face.   
  
"The Suzaku seishi? Is that what we really are?" I wondered aloud. "It seems to me that even when we were them, we were not."   
  
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" Tasuki exploded, glad to expunge the swirling emotions inside him. Let him be angry. Better that he let it out than keep it in.   
  
But making Tasuki deal with his grief wasn't my only objective tonight. I had to convince my brothers to think about what I was saying. They were so caught up in their Miaka fantasy that they were blinded to the truth.   
  
"The Suzaku seishi…why did they exist?" I queried cautiously.  
  
"To protect the priestess and the nation of Konan." Hotohori replied haughtily. His tone implied his contempt for the question and made me understand I wasn't quite forgiven for the crack to his jaw yesterday.   
  
"And what does the priestess do?"  
  
"She summons the beast god and makes three wishes." Nuriko obediently parroted.   
  
I realized that I was taking the wrong approach.   
  
"Look, um, we get our power from Suzaku, right? And the priestess can only do what Suzaku lets her. He chooses her and grooms her for the role of priestess through hardships. We serve Suzaku by serving the priestess but it is Suzaku who ultimately deserves our loyalty, correct?"   
  
I got some leery looks from that statement. No one wanted to say anything, to make any move toward confirming our worst fears about our priestess. But after a few oppressive minutes, Tasuki surprisingly spoke up.  
  
"He's right. Chichiri would be the first one ta say he's right. We're the Suzaku Seven, not the Miaka Seven. I love Miaka as much as anyone but…I ain't spiritual but maybe Mits is right an' we should listen to what Suzaku's got ta say." The last bit rushed out of the young man and made him stare, red-faced, down at his tea cup.   
  
"We aren't being disloyal to Miaka by listening to Suzaku," I pressed. "She is the Priestess of Suzaku. She should want us to get to know our god better."  
  
"Unless she was evil, is that it?" Hotohori questioned sarcastically. He threw down his napkin and rose to his feet in one swift motion. "I cannot stand here and listen to you abuse Miaka's character. We know her. She is our rescuer. We spent months fighting at her side! Are you willing to throw that all away, Mitsukake, all because you feel jealous of us? You say you felt like an outsider? Well, then maybe you shouldn't have acted like one. No one ever stopped you from becoming fully one of us. Or were you afraid that you couldn't measure up?"   
  
I lumbered to my feet, not nearly as graceful as the ex-emperor and for once not caring. "You should be glad I never truly became one of you. I'm apparently the only one who can look at this objectively. Foolish love has made you blind, Saihitei, and it'll be your death."   
  
There was absolute silence as Hotohori and I stared each other down. This was the first time I had ever stood up against him, the first time I ever really stood solidly against any of them. This was my trial by fire and it wasn't just my life on the line…  
  
Whatever he saw in my eyes was enough to appease Hotohori if only slightly. "Then I choose love. I cannot live with doubt, Mitsukake. If you can, I pity you." Turning on his heel, Hotohori walked out of the apartment.   
  
The rest of my guests looked ready to sink into the floor. "I apologize for the outburst." I said to them insincerely but it had no effect. Nuriko stood and gave me a small smile.  
  
"I'm sorry on Hotohori's behalf," the petite man told me. "He just needs to cool down. I'll talk to him about it."   
  
Tasuki and I watched Nuriko hurry out before looking back at each other. "Shit, man" the man said to me with a hint of admiration, "you sure know how to throw a party."   
  
I laughed and after a moment so did he. Settling back down at the table, I motioned for Shoka to bring us something stronger to drink. Tasuki's eyes lit up. As I poured him his first glass, the younger man looked at me earnestly.   
  
"Tell me what you think…"   
  
TBC 


	5. The Pain of Dehydration

Disclaimer: I own no one. Lalala  
  
~ This one's for you, Otaku Pitcher, my only reviewer. ? ~   
***  
Love Resurrected, Destiny Unfulfilled  
Chapter Five: The Pain of Dehydration  
By: omni82  
  
***  
  
The agony of my hangover was such that even a strong adjective like agony couldn't hint at my pain. My head hurt, my stomach hurt, even my hair hurt. Plus, I was sprawled on my living room floor exactly where the nails had come loose and were cheerfully poking me in the back. Worst of all, I knew I couldn't move. If I did, I would undoubtedly lose every thing I had ever eaten - ever.   
  
A shadow cast itself over my red-rimmed eyes that could focus enough to decipher just what it was seeing.   
  
"Juan."   
  
"I want to die," I blurted out despite the blinding pain it brought. Shoka smirked and knelt at my side. God, she was pretty. If Tasuki weren't in my bathroom puking, I'd take her right here on the comfortless floor.  
  
"Juan!" Shoka cried, her pretty face turning read. Had I said that out loud?   
  
"Yes, you did. You're still drunk." My wife informed me with a startled smile on her face.   
  
Well, I meant it. Five months after giving birth and she still had the tightest…  
  
"Enough out of you," Shoka pronounced with that faint blush still on her face. "You're getting off this floor and into the shower. Imagine, a grown man like you drinking all night and passing out on the carpet. Are you insane?" She hooked her arm under my shoulders and heaved. As my head passed belt-level everything went dark.   
  
After my vision cleared, I found that my head ached even my abundantly than before and that Tasuki was standing at my feet frowning. He gave absolutely no indication of having suffered any affects from last night's binge. Maybe his eyes were a bit shadowed and his clothes slightly wrinkled but he had his accustomed toothy smirk firmly in place.   
  
"No wonder ya couldn't get him to his feet on yer own. The man's a mountain." I never noticed just how annoying his drawl was until this very moment so when he grabbed my wrists to pull me to my feet, I resisted. It was hilarious to see him make all that futile effort.   
  
Dropping my arms, Tasuki scowled. "Not getting' up, eh? I know one way to get yer lard ass up." With a swift, fluid movement, he snagged my wife's wrist, reeled her in, and dipped her only to place a hearty kiss on her lips.   
  
My world went red.   
  
"You bastard!" – is what I think I roared as I sprang to my feet and threw a punch at my old friend that sent me face first into his chest. Promptly, Tasuki had one of my arms around his shoulders and Shoka the other. They half-carried, half-pulled me into the shower where my lovely wife turned the cold spray on full.   
  
I sputtered, swore, and wished harm on the people I loved the best. By the time I had sobered up, I was deeply remorseful.   
  
"Forgive me," I begged to Tasuki a third time over breakfast, which for me was only strong, black coffee. The bandit crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to consider it.   
  
"I dunno…you did take a swing at me."   
  
"I'm so sorr…" Wait, he kissed my wife. What the hell was I asking forgiveness from him for? I ought to be burying his body in the concrete courtyard behind the building.   
  
Some of this must have been showing in my face because Tasuki suddenly accepted my apology with the grace of a diplomat.   
  
"Have some toast," Shoka sang a little too cheerily. I couldn't help but notice that she didn't look in Tasuki's direction at all. My mood darkened.   
  
"Today, I think I'll try to get Nuriko alone. If his majesty isn't hangin' around, I think he'll be more receptive." The bandit informed me, cracking his knuckles. I nearly chuckled before I remembered I was angry. This conversation between Nuriko and Tasuki was something I wish I could see. Neither was particularly good at listening to advice.   
  
"Shouldn't we be doing something about Miaka?" Shoka queried doubtfully. "If we just leave her alone, she'll become suspicious and maybe counter whatever we're planning."   
  
Tasuki and I shared a wince. Miaka was evil and gunning for us yet…it was hard to forget the cheerful, upbeat girl we had known in the Universe of the Four Gods. Was either of us up to fighting her?   
  
"Oh for God's sake," my wife scolded suddenly. "I didn't mean for one of you to go out and kill her on the subway. I was just going to go into the office and bury her in paperwork."   
  
Tasuki let out a loud, relieved chuckle. "I knew what ya meant," he lied. "Sure thing. Give her all the meaningless busy work you can think to do. That'll give me time to talk to Nuri and Mits here to apologize to Hotohori and kiss his ass until the emperor is ready to come confront Miaka with us."   
  
What?! I was going to do what to Hotohori's ass? But before I could protest, Tasuki had risen from my table and was heading toward the foyer in search of his shoes. Shoka followed close behind.   
  
"But I don't want to…" I pitifully protested to the closed door. Well, they certainly knew how to play me.   
  
And because my wife and my friend expected me to, an hour later I walked out my front door with little Chiriko in tow. I had no desire to see Hotohori and seriously doubted the man would even let me into his hotel room when I arrived. He was far more than insulted last night. He was…betrayed.   
  
I was under no illusions about my loyalty to Miaka but it seemed I owed Suzaku more credit. As I passed by the local coffee shop, siting by the window was no other than Hotohori. He was far too well mannered ever to make a public fuss and I suddenly felt emboldened to make a second go with him.   
  
The interior of the shop was warm and I immediately shed my scarf. Heavenly aromas of baking scones and fresh brewed coffee assaulted my nose and since the prince hadn't noticed me yet, I quickly snagged a latte for me and a soft, blueberry muffin for drooling Chiriko.   
  
"Is this seat taken?" It saddened me to see Hotohori's spine swiftly stiffen and ice to come into his eyes.   
  
"Yes," he replied with all the dismissive hauteur of a noble, "It is."   
  
Nevertheless I sat with an ease that riled my old friend even more.   
  
"Are you deaf, Mitsukake? I said you couldn't sit here."   
  
"I heard you," I responded with a cheerfulness that was obviously feigned, "but I didn't think you were speaking to Chiriko." To make my point, I lifted my son out of his plastic blue carrier and sat him on my lap. One hand kept him upright as the other fed him bits of muffin.   
  
Civility inhibited any foul remarks he might have made so the emperor sat quietly, contenting himself with shooting me various dirty looks.  
  
"So--" I began.  
  
"If--" Hotohori said in tandem.   
  
I gestured for him to go on. He momentarily looked uncomfortable but with visible effort, composed his lovely features.   
  
"If you think you can convince me of your foul theory, you are mistaken Mitsukake. I can never believe that of Miaka! She is our priestess and our friend." He told me sternly, emphasizing the connection we shared. Two days ago I would have wavered in face of his passion but today…it was as if my will had been cast in iron, purified and refined until it allow no resistance to move it. This was faith, faith in Suzaku, faith in Shoka, and faith in myself. Hotohori had his own faith placed in Miaka and I feared it would get him killed or worse…damned.   
  
Consequently, I made as much effort to be eloquent and convincing as I had in my marriage proposal to Shoka five years ago.   
  
"Hotohori…I really respect you." The man blinked and glared at me, wanting to find some bit of insincerity in my face but I knew he could not see what was not there. "It's true. You are so noble, so much more openly caring than I ever was and probably ever will be. Compassion and grace characterize you. I admire that and have always tried to imitate it, pitiful as my abilities are."   
  
Hotohori looked startled and shyly pleased. I realized this was the first time I had ever told him that. How many other people had I taken for granted? These could be my last few days in this life and I might go never telling those I cared about why I loved them. It was sobering.   
  
"You had the most sacrificing heart. I ached for you, watching you as your love for her was rejected. Hotohori," I stopped feeding Chiriko long enough to grasp his hand, "your innocent heart was damaged in those few months, more than you deserved. Every one of us that died…I knew how I felt but how did you feel?"   
  
"Like a part of me died," he whispered hoarsely. "Like my heart was ripped out."   
  
"That's how I felt, every minute of every day after Nuriko died. And when Chiriko sacrificed himself," I choked up at the memory of my son…my friend willing himself to die to save us, "it was worse. I didn't think I could ever be happy again. In fact, I never really was again, not until this life at least. I managed to let go of my old pain and embrace new happiness.  
  
Of any of us, I deserved it the least. I killed my love—twice. Sometimes I still feel unworthy."  
  
"Me too." Hotohori agreed. "When I look at Nuriko, I swell up inside with love…and guilt."   
  
"Because he's not Miaka?"   
  
The emperor looked startled and then so profoundly sad I regretted my words.   
  
"Yes. Because he's not Miaka."   
  
"But you don't love him less, do you?"   
  
Hotohori looked rightly enraged. "Of course not! I love him more because he is Nuriko. Because he returns it." The last part was uttered on a muted sigh.   
  
"It didn't seem right that she got such an all-encompassing love amidst such pain. What kind of love thrives in death?" There. I had said it. Hopefully my lingering doubt could find some small home in his heart.   
  
"She deserved it." Hotohori shot back with lackluster ire.   
  
"I agree. Miaka was a good priestess and had a passionate, caring heart. But she was selfish. In her adolescent thinking, everyone should have lived happily ever after. It wasn't a fault, exactly, but life isn't about happily ever after. Sometimes it's about pain and death. These are things we have to accept. Only when we do can we push pass the pain they cause and grow as people."   
  
"And you say that because she thought like an innocent, it made her evil?" Hotohori asked skeptically.   
  
"Not precisely. It's because she acted on her naivete. By trying to make that fourth wish, she accidentally perverted the power she was sharing with Suzaku. It twisted her mind."  
  
"And wouldn't the same have happened to Suzaku? Shouldn't he be evil too?" Hotohori queried with faint bitterness. He wasn't totally rejecting my hypothesis, which was much better than last night.   
  
"I don't think it had the same affect on him like it did on her. She was borrowing Suzaku's power; it was alien to her and when she tried to manipulate it without really knowing how. I think it just sort of exploded in her face. In the process it polluted parts of Suzaku, making him slightly unbalanced but cognizant enough to be aware of what was wrong and to try to fix it."   
  
"And we are supposed to fix it? How?"   
  
Eeep. Yes, how were we supposed to fix it? I had no idea really and Suzaku never explained what I must do. All he said was "save your brothers." Was convincing them enough or must I go the extra kilometer and deal with Miaka as well? And what of Tamahome? Words would never be enough to free him from her clutches. All at once I doubted the feasibility of what I was doing.   
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I responded with a certainty I didn't feel.   
  
"I'm not saying I believe you," Hotohori began carefully, "but what you said made a lot of sense. Still, I want you to come with me and look, really look, at Miaka and tell me if you can still have no doubt about her motives."   
  
Truthfully, I'd rather have a million ants crawl all over my naked body than spend two minutes with Miaka but if I could show Hotohori the strength of my conviction, it might go that much farther in bringing him back into the light.   
  
"Very well," I decided abruptly, "she's at my office working today. Let's go see her now."   
  
If Hotohori was pleased or surprised by my ready agreement, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he stood up and slid into his camelhair coat. I put on my own, very beat up jean jacket and bundled Chiriko back into his carrier. Hotohori watched us for a few seconds with that same wistful look Nuriko had worn before escorting me to the door.   
  
On the taxi ride over to the clinic, we talked about books we liked, movies we saw, and our families. I got to know Hotohori like I never had before. I found him to be as witty and urbane as he had always seemed but tentative and shy as well. Perhaps I was not the only one of us to feel isolated. What had it been like for him as emperor? We could never forget that besides being one of us, he was the ruler of our nation. His position never allowed the easy camaraderie of Nuriko, Tasuki, and Tamahome. We were very much alike and, in this life, I hoped we could become close friends.   
  
But something was distracting me. The nearer we came to the clinic, the tighter the ball of dread in my stomach became. Why did I have this impending sense of doom? I both wanted to hurry there and never arrive at all.   
  
Hotohori decided it for me. "If you hurry, I'll triple your tip," he promised the driver, the look upon his face one of distinct unease. If Hotohori felt it as well then my fears were not unfounded and that was the worst feeling I had ever had in my life.   
  
After an agonizing eternity, the cab spit us up on the sidewalk before the office. Somehow it looked darker, colder. When my hand touched the doorknob, a shock of electric fear shot through my arm. I didn't realize I was running until I burst through the office door.   
  
It was the smell that initially alerted me that something was terribly wrong. That faint, coppery scent…the smell any doctor recognized…blood. My office was painted in blood. Not just drips or splatters but large, gushing sprays all over the walls and furniture. It was obscene.  
  
But there was no body in clear sight. Too tense to be reassured, I moved through the waiting room with Hotohori as my appalled shadow. The door to Shoka's office was slightly ajar and upon seeing it, my body seized up. Every muscle stopped moving in protest to the imagined horror that awaited me.  
  
"Take my son--" is what I thought I said to Hotohori as I thrust the mobile baby seat at him. With a trembling hand, I pushed at the door…  
  
And almost fainted with relief as I saw Shoka, standing at the window, her back turned to me.   
  
"Shoka--" I stumbled toward her, my body lax with happy shock. Grasping her shoulder, I pulled her to me, my only desire to hold my vibrant wife in my arms…  
  
Only to find that her eyes stared glassily into mine and that her chest was a smear of crimson, life's blood. She was cold.   
  
I fell to my knees, clutching her still form to me, screaming, crying, keening my grief to the blood-spattered ceiling. Some animal had hurt her…some animal had…my God…Shoka…  
  
"What's the matter, Mitsukake? I saved her. Can't you see? She's happy now." Sitting in Shoka's chair…sitting in my dead wife's chair…was Miaka, her mouth and fingernails stained red with gore...   
  
TBC… 


End file.
